


A Complaint

by Shift7



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bureaucracy as Revenge, Gen, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Other, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shift7/pseuds/Shift7
Summary: Gabriel glanced up from his desk, which was uncharacteristically messy, "Ah, Michael, hello. What can I help you with?""I'll cut this short as I can tell things are busy and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you've received… erm," she looked uncomfortable, "An official AR complaint.""A what?"





	A Complaint

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is slightly more than 1k words but I was trapped during my travel home and had so much time to kill.

It had been a busy month in Heaven. For some reason or another, a multitude of projects had peaked all at once and Gabriel was scrambling to conduct all the detailed approvals and reviews before more requests piled up on his desk. It was mostly housekeeping procedures and nothing _ actually _ serious, so he had the time. Time as a construct was mostly irrelevant in Heaven at this point as far as he was concerned. They had no major apocalyptic events they were planning on dealing with _again_ any time soon.

“Gabriel,” Michael greeted curtly, as she entered his office by sliding a pane of glass to the side. 

Gabriel glanced up from his desk, which was uncharacteristically messy, "Ah, Michael, hello. What can I help you with?"

"I'll cut this short as I can tell things are busy and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you've received… erm," she looked uncomfortable, "An official AR complaint."

"A what?" He looked quizzically at her, not comprehending at all what she was talking about.

"Angelic Resources." She continued, "For, you know, personnel relations."

"And you're saying I've received a complaint? Me?" He looked at her like she couldn’t be serious before smiling and returning the work in front of him, "Very hilarious, as always Michael, you are such a comedian. I always appreciate your very specific brand of workplace humour. Next time we have a team building workshop you really _must_ tell jokes."

"Thank you, but really, I’m not joking." Michael put a very thick gilded folder down on his desk. "You've received one. _ In full._ I’s dotted, T’s crossed... It’s actually rather impressive anyone went through the effort of submitting this _ at all _ as it is it's own special brand of tedium."

"You can’t be-- Most Angels don't even _know_ about that department." He reached over, grabbed the folder and opened it, "Who would even?"

Heaven had put a few rules about employee to employee proceedings in place a couple eons ago when they started to modernize. The Archangels had administratively agreed they really couldn’t deal with another turnover as extensive and messy as The Fall again so they constructed an entirely new department to deal with any and all inter office complaints before they escalated. Not that any ever happened--all the employees that would have ever submitted any were no longer a part of Heaven's employ. It was a superfluous department all things considered and 95% of all Angels forgot it even existed. This may have been the first complaint _ever_ as far as Gabriel could remember.

"It wasn't an Angel actually. It was your…er," Michael coughed, "_Friend_ from downstairs."

Gabriel's eyes widened, "Can Demons even submit those kind of complaints? That just seems…" He trailed off, not really sure exactly the point he was grasping at. It just didn't seem possible.

"They shouldn't have been able too, yes, but they found a way. Trust me, I checked. Twice. It's all through official channels. We do _technically_ operate under the same parent so we can't rightfully throw it out unless we want to deal with an onslaught of backlash from Hell's record keepers." She made a face that conveyed her displeasure at _that_ prospect.

"This _still_ doesn't make any sense." He began flipping through the pages, "I've been extremely upfront about my proceedings with the personnel from downstairs, nothing should be amiss. Everything is extensively documented, I made presentations."

"I _know_ and I am _aware_." Michael grimaced, remembering the multiple day long seminar on _ How to Properly Conduct a Shaking of Hands and Other Appropriate Methods of Greeting when Engaging with Demonkind_. It had been its own special nightmare she'd have liked to spend the rest of eternity forgetting about. "But that doesn't change the fact it has happened."

"What would Be--_they_ even have to complain about?"

"I don't know, I stopped reading after page 30 because I couldn't make full sense of it. It's written in a very old, but still somehow incredibly official, dialect. What I am able to understand is that," she crossed her arms, "You _really_ did something to piss them off."

Gabriel visibly deflated at that. Both because this was about to be a very large headache in the midst of a very busy time and that he had really felt like the two of them were getting on rather well with each other. He hated dealing with any kind of setback, especially one he didn't entirely understand. He sighed, "What are the next steps?"

"It's already undergoing review. We don't need it being submitted to the official record. It would, quite frankly, be embarrassing for you and the other Archangels. We are supposed to be unquestionable and upstanding in all things, Gabriel. There would be talk if this escalated." She gave him a look that said _ There’s already talk_. 

It was his turn to grimace, "What do you think I should do then?"

Michael pulled her phone out of her breast jacket pocket and placed it on his desk, "Fix it." She then turned to walk out, sliding the door closed behind her.

Gabriel reached out and picked up the phone with a frown. He scrolled through the listed contacts before finding the one he was looking for. He hesitated for a moment before tapping it and placing it to his ear. It rang only once before they answered.

"Michael. I refuzze to talk to you about thizz further." A familiar voice snapped on the other end of the line. "Do _ not _ call me again unlezz you want to deal with your own mezz of internal complaintzzz."

"Um," he started, not entirely sure what to say or how to start this conversation. 

"_Oh_," their voice dropped low and dangerous in a way that made the hairs on Gabriel's neck stand on end, "Itzz _you_."

"B--"

"_Shut up_," they cut him off, "I only have one thing to say to you so listen and comprehend thizz in your tiny, insufferable Angel brain." 

Gabriel swallowed, his throat dry. His hands may have even been a little sweaty. He could literally feel how angry they were over the line.

"Don't you ** _ever_ ** so much azz entertain the notion of standing me up again or I will do so much ** _worse_ ** to you than submit some measly paperwork, _ azzzzhole_." The line went dead with a _ beep_.

Gabriel, in that moment, realized that maybe time _ did _ matter and he may have actually committed another apocalyptically huge oversight.

**Author's Note:**

> Beelzebub agreed to redact the complaint but only after Gabriel agreed to let them set his entire schedule for the next 6 months. It was incredibly inconvenient.
> 
> Afterwards, he wrote an additional seminar about Punctuality and Different Demonic Responses to the Lack Thereof. Michael thought she might actually discorporate during it.


End file.
